


We Fall, Divided

by Starrie_Wolf



Category: RWBY
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Headcanon, Monty Oum Tribute, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrie_Wolf/pseuds/Starrie_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Today we stand together, united.</i>
</p><p>They thought that the Grimm were the only ones they had to defend the world against.</p><p>
  <i>But this bond cannot exist without effort.</i>
</p><p>Eighty years of peace, shattered in a single moment.</p><p>They were wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fall, Divided

**Author's Note:**

> My requisite Monty Oum tribute. May you rest in peace.

Lie Ren rolled out of bed at the first shriek of the alarms, palm slapping against the cold marble floor as he landed in a crouch and sprang for his table. Halfway through tucking StormFlower into his sleeves, his conscious mind came online, and it was only through sheer muscle memory that he finished arming himself. One look around told him that his teammates were already dressed and prepared to go.

“Let’s move!”

He shook his head vigorously, smacking his palm against his forehead in an attempt to wake himself up fully, mumbling something that might have been a mangled groan of gratitude when Nora helpfully held the door open for him.

Professor Goodwitch was already in the auditorium when they arrived, customary scroll in hand, the only evidence as to the late hour being a strand of hair falling out of her normally perfectly coiffed bun. She impatiently brushed it out of her face, scanning them critically.

“Team JNPR, reporting!”

“Head out to Forever Fall,” she informed in lieu of a greeting. “You’ll be briefed on the way.”

~*~*~*~

Nearly three years into the war, and no one was quite sure how it had all come to pass. Some say it had been General Ironwood of Atlas, who authorised an unprovoked invasion into the heart of Vale. Some say it had been the White Fang, who bore a grudge against the peace humanity had worked so hard to maintain. Still others whispered (softly, softly, always looking over their shoulders) of Beacon Academy, how the few surviving eyewitnesses had sworn _Huntresses_ were seen on the train on that fateful day, before being abruptly silenced.

Whatever the reason, everyone agreed, it was precipitated by the destruction of the barriers protecting the south-eastern part of Vale, releasing Grimm into the city. The unauthorised mobilisation of the Atlesian military within the borders of Vale further complicated matters, as did the staunch refusal of General Ironwood to hand over the prisoner known as Roman Torchwick, stating that Vale was too soft on criminals.

Tensions skyrocketed, and a delegation – led by Professor Ozpin of Beacon Academy, rumoured to be an old friend of General Ironwood – attempted to settle matters peacefully. Neither side gave way, but while the leaders were trapped in a deadlock, the Atlesian military opened fire upon Vale.

Ren yawned widely, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He might have been there on the day itself, but even he had no clue what had transpired. Was General Ironwood really in cahoots with Roman Torchwick, as some theorists suggested? Or did Torchwick somehow escape, reprogramming the Atlesian androids to attack Vale, as General Ironwood claimed? He was reasonably certain that despite being present on the train, Team RWBY had been only unwitting accomplices to the crime – he couldn’t imagine the idealistic fifteen-year-old Ruby had been deliberately sabotaging Vale.

Ren shook his head. Conspiracy theories were getting him nowhere. He had to focus. They would be reaching their destination soon, and a single second of distraction could be costly.

“We’re here.”

Nora had already launched herself off the Bullhead with a loud whoop. Jaune shook his head, smiling, before leaping out of the Bullhead after her. Next was Pyrrha, and finally Ren.

On the ground, the situation resolved itself at a single glance.

“I’ll take the Death Stalker.” Pyrrha’s voice brooked no argument, and without hesitation Jaune gave her a single nod. Further to the right, Nora had somehow – deliberately, Ren suspected – landed in the middle of a pack of Beowolves, and Magnhild was already occupied. That left them with the scattered Creeps, and that one Ursa Jaune was already charging towards. Guess the Creeps were his then.

The nearest Creep scuttled in the direction Jaune had gone in, and with nary a flicker of thought StormFlower was in his hands, spitting out a hail of bullets. His aim was true, and with a shriek of outrage the Creep turned to face him. It closed the distance between them in a flash, fangs extended –

– and struck thin air. Ren smoothly rose from his sideways roll, blades snapping out with a soft _snick_ , decapitating the Creep before it could retaliate.

Next target.

Several more Creeps were despatched with similar ease, their thin hide no match for StormFlower’s enhanced blades. He knew why Jaune had assigned him clean-up duty, of course – he was the only one amongst them with a multi-directional ranged option – but quantity did not increase the difficulty.

His senses _screamed_ , and without turning around Ren channelled his Aura to his legs and _leapt_ upwards, somersaulting in mid-air before landing lightly on his feet. The Boarbatusk rolled past underneath him harmlessly, impacting with a tree. Before it could regain his feet Ren was already on it, green streaks of energy lancing into its eyes as he ran forwards, ducking under a haphazard tusk to thrust both blades of StormFlower home into its vulnerable underside.

Ren stood up slowly, dusting himself off, and waited a beat to make sure the Boarbatusk was dissipating before turning around to meet the new threat.

Instead of another creature of Grimm, he was met with the sight of an unfamiliar Hunter. Atlesian, he guessed. Professor Goodwitch wouldn’t put together teams that could not recognise each other on sight, for fear of friendly fire.

~*~*~*~

Pain. Sorrow. Death.

War was like a _feast_ to the Grimm, attracting them like honey to flies. Wherever there was heavy fighting, there was sure to be Grimm. In fact, the heavier the combat, the more the Grimm, until their roars drowned out the cries of the wounded.

Vale’s Hunters operated under a strict code of neutrality: their only job was to keep the Grimm away from the battlefield. Professor Ozpin had been very insistent that Hunters were meant to protect humanity, not aid them in killing each other. With good reason, Ren could admit – adding Hunters into the equation would turn this war into a hurricane of destruction and massacre. Team JPNR were only fourth year students, but they would each be able to take out an army of androids without breaking a sweat – to say nothing of veteran Hunters. The few previous times Ren had encountered Atlesian Hunters, they had done the same, skirted warily around each other, until the emergence of new threats thankfully took them in separate directions. For all his insistence that Professor Ozpin was too _soft_ , it seemed that in this regard, at least, General Ironwood agreed.

Ren gave the other Hunter a terse nod, glancing around for the rest of his team. For the moment they were alone, though he could see bright pink flashes lighting up the forest in the distance. There was no sign of Jaune and Pyrrha, but then, Pyrrha was a precise fighter while Jaune didn’t even _use_ Dust in the first place, so it wasn’t terribly surprising that he had lost them amongst the trees.

“The blond with the sword and shield, he one of yours?”

Attention snapping back to the foreign Hunter, Ren cocked his head to the side. “Yeah,” he replied, after a heartbeat.

“Saw him entangled with a couple of King Taijitu over there,” the Atlesian commented, jerking a thumb behind him.

Ren gave other Hunter another nod, edging cautiously in that direction. “Right. Thanks.”

He traversed the distance on feather-light footsteps, knowing better than to give himself away. It soon became apparent that the other Hunter had been telling the truth; the tell-tale slither of scales rustled the carpet of leaves, accompanied by quiet grunts of exertion. Crocea Mors likely wasn’t doing much good against the thick hide of the King Taijitu, then. Ren frowned down at StormFlower, sliding it back up his sleeves.

If targeting the outside was futile, then he would just have to target the inside.

Climbing into a tree to observe the situation – Nora was rubbing off on him, really, even if he point-blank refused to make those chirruping sounds – he understood at a glance what the Atlesian Hunter had meant by “a couple of King Taijitu”. Jaune wasn’t surrounded by a black-and-white pair; there were four heads circling around him, three white and one black. Another glance around found the remaining two black halves, lying motionless on the ground. Ren squinted. It looked like Jaune had managed to impale them somehow through the roof of their mouths.

He returned his attention to his team leader. What little he could see of the blond showed that he seemed unharmed, though that didn’t mean anything. Even as he watched, Jaune threw his sword arm up to block a fanged thrust from a white head, his shield wedged between the fangs of another head. White Aura _flared_ at the point of contact, causing the King Taijitu to rear back, faint cracks running up its fangs. The other heads all pulled back for an instant, swaying cautiously.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Ren launched himself off the branch with an Aura-enhanced jump, tackling the white head with the injured fangs. His Aura blazed violet for an instant, and with a quick twist-and-snap the fangs _shattered_ under his grip. He hefted one of them experimentally. Perhaps a repeat performance of his first year was in order.

The other heads had recovered from the unexpected intrusion into their midst, and he could feel them poising themselves for attack behind him. Ren ignored them, slamming the fang in his right hand into the eye of the defanged white head, bringing to bear the entire force of his Aura against that single point.

The head exploded outwards in a shower of gore, the headless body falling to the ground.

Behind him, the dull thud of metal against serpentine hide told him that one of them had tried – and failed – to attack him.

“You gotta teach me how to do that.”

Ren didn’t dignify that with a response, spinning around to meet the remaining three heads, twirling the remaining fang in his left hand absently. It would soon wither away into nothing should he not use it quickly, he knew. “I thought these were solitary creatures.”

Jaune laughed knowingly, ducking as the last black head hissed at him threateningly, fangs bared. With a quick roll forwards, he thrust his shield into its mouth, forcing its jaws wide open. Crocea Mors bit home into the fleshy interior of its mouth, and Jaune snarled a battle cry, pushing forwards, until Ren could see the tip of the sword protruding from the top of its head. The blond yanked his sword out suddenly, taking a step back as the last black half of a King Taijitu fell motionless at his feet.

Ah, so that was how the previous two black heads had met their demise.

“I’d call Professor Ozpin to ask him about it, but I’m a little _occupied_ at the moment,” admitted Jaune.

“So I see.” Ren tilted his head to the right, and without another word both fell into combat-ready stances. In the corner of his eye, he saw the shield shift, melting into its sheath form in Jaune’s hand.

In that split second of distraction, the head on the left _struck_. Jaune threw up his arms, crossing them over his head to defend himself, but he hadn’t expected the surprise attack. The white head hissed, crimson eyes glittering, and simply headbutted the blond into a tree. Jaune barely blinked, the scratches on his arms fading away even as he stood up, slashing wildly away at the King Taijitu.

Ren turned his full attention to his own opponent as the remaining King Taijitu began to circle him warily, thick coils looping slowly around him. He leapt onto the serpentine body before it could fully constrict around him, using its own scales as a springboard to launch himself upwards and out. The remaining fang in his hand began dissolving into tendrils of smoke and he sighed, tossing it away as useless even as he stood atop the King Taijitu, meeting its crimson glare head-on.

In the span of a thought StormFlower was in his hands, blades glittering. The King Taijitu bared its fangs menacingly, but it did not approach as thoughtlessly as its other fellow Grimm did. Instead, it reared back, undulating its body in an attempt to throw Ren off.

Ren let himself be carelessly flung off, eyes trained on the King Taijitu’s mouth. It opened wide, as though sensing itself on the verge of victory, seeking to swallow him whole.

StormFlower had been useless against one of them, once.

He fired, once.

Even as he fell, he tucked his body into a roll in mid-air, turning the throw into a somersault onto a nearby branch. The King Taijitu’s tail whistled through the air where he had been, a failed attempt to smack him onto the ground.

Ren crouched on the branch, patient, and waited.

There was no dramatic fanfare, but the King Taijitu’s head concaved oddly inwards for a moment before it burst open messily, showering the vicinity in the soot-like substance that passed off as blood for the Grimm.

Leaning back to avoid a few specks that floated too close, he finally let himself scan the vicinity for his team leader. Jaune wasn’t hard to find – his bright blond hair stood out starkly in the sea of red leaves, propped casually against a tree, his own King Taijitu dissolving slowly beside him. Seeing Ren look his way, he flashed a thumbs up, their team’s call sign for all clear.

“Just got a call from Beacon, we’re to regroup and head back.”

Ren breathed out a sigh of relief, dropping onto the ground. “Let’s go find the others, then.”

“Just follow the bursts of pink smoke.” Jaune nodded sagely, laughing when Ren gave in to the urge to roll his eyes.

~*~*~*~

Back in their room, Ren stretched hurriedly, stripping out of his combat clothing and rushing into the shower. The sooner he was clean, the sooner he could get back to bed.

“Good work today,” mumbled Jaune, dunking his head under the spray to get rid of the red highlights in his hair. Ren stole the showerhead from the blond as soon as the water trickled clear, grimacing as his fingers encountered the sticky sap liberally streaked through his own ponytail.

“I hate Forever Fall,” he announced.

Jaune snickered, a towel wrapped around his waist, snagging Ren’s hairtie on his way out of the bathroom. “I’ll put it on your table for you.”

“Thanks!” Ren hollered back as the door slammed shut. A few more minutes, and he could be sound asleep.

Until the next call to arms, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a Tumblr if you're interested!](starriewolf.tumblr.com)


End file.
